


Burn

by AtXGray



Category: Camp Buddy (Visual Novel)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 06:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17503394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AtXGray/pseuds/AtXGray
Summary: It was years ago that the romance of his life blossomed in an unexpected place that changed the course of his life forever. Years later, the love of his life is suddenly and unexpectedly taken away from him without even a chance to say goodbye. But even after loss life goes on. Those who leave us never truly stop watching over us. Those who remain with us keep us grounded. Even when everything has burnt to the ground, from the ashes can arise new memories, maybe even a new romance.





	Burn

**Burn**

**Disclaimer: Camp Buddy and all related characters are copyright BLits Games.**

 

(0)

 

The best memories are not made by being alone but by being around with others that you that you love and care about.

 

And once in a lifetime you stumble across that one special person who lights up your world and makes it feel truly complete. You don’t realize until you meet them and love begins to blossom that you weren’t truly alive before.

 

For the longest time, your world is bright. There are good times. There are tough times. But with both of you at each other’s side, there is no challenge you can’t face. Nothing too hard for you to come through. As long as you have each other.

 

Until all of a sudden you don’t.

 

And then it feels like your entire world is burning down around you. Except this time, there is no fixing it. What has been lost this time cannot be replaced. What has been destroyed can no longer be gotten back.

 

(1)

 

It all happens so fast. The day starts out so normally. I awake beside me, the same as every morning. His arms wrapped around me, sleeping calmly beside me. I leaned over and kiss his face. As he began to slowly rouse, he gives me that playful grin of his and leans over and kisses me back.

 

We have breakfast together, our talk a mix of playful banter and talk about the work that has to be done today. He’s going to run some errands to get some supplies for the camp. I have some paperwork to do – sorting out the new applicants for this summer’s batch.

 

I kiss him goodbye, not knowing that the moment he walks out that door that everything is about to change.

 

I continue to work on my paperwork. There is one strange moment – one in which I suddenly stopped working and glance at the clock. 11:30. And I have the strangest feeling. It’s as if I’m seeing an image of him in my head – in my mind’s eye. He is surrounded by blackness, moving upward, looking at me with a sad smile, and he is saying: ‘I’m sorry.’

 

I shake my head, thinking of it as nothing more than a random, weird illusion my brain has concocted as I’ve been working.

 

But from that point on, there is just a small prickle in my mind, just a very minor pang of unexplainable fear.

 

After… what? Five, ten minutes, I’m not really sure, I reach over and grabbed my cell phone and call his. It immediately goes to voice mail. Suddenly the minor pang of fear turns into irrational panic. I mean, he must have simply have had his phone off all this time and forgot to turn it on, that’s all.

 

After ten minutes of trying to concentrate on my work and failing, the landline suddenly starts ringing shrilly next to me, making me jump in my seat and causing all my hair to stand on end.

 

I look at the caller ID. My blood chills. It’s the local police department. Why would they be calling me unless something really bad has happened? With shaky hands I pick up the receiver and get the phone call I never wanted to receive, ever.

 

A case of drunk driving. The guy ran a red light. He’d hit the other car that was in the process of coming through the intersection at the green light. It was a brutal mess. The time was 11:30. And just like that, my beloved is gone. Forever.

 

(2)

 

Ever feel like the rules of time have been completely upended and cast aside like they are no longer relevant?

 

You get the fatal phone call, the call that imparts news that surely must be coming from some parallel reality, certainly not this one, and as the voice on the other side continues to talk it seems to be getting strangely further and further away. All time seems to stop; reality feels like it is completely ripping apart.

 

All you can do is stand there frozen at first, not moving. Seeing your entire world shattering apart in front of you in a million pieces. Knowing that it’s all over. Knowing that it can never be taken back. Feeling like your heart is absolutely ripping, literally ripping in two.

 

(3)

 

Of course, the inner thoughts of denial begin to come first. Perhaps it was the wrong person. Perhaps they simply made a mistake. Perhaps this is not real. Perhaps this is all a dream and I will wake up in a few seconds.

 

(4)

 

But it’s not and in the end all that’s left is the new reality, where everything is burned and shattered and broken and you’re left sitting in the wreckage, desolate, and there’s nothing left to do but immediately begin to try to pick up the pieces, pieces you know that can never be put back together again.

 

(5)

 

Present moment. What was supposed to have been a perfect day has turned into a nightmare. And as much as for a few minutes it’s felt like all time’s stopped, all of a sudden it feels like everything is speeding up. It’s all a blur. Talking with the police, the identification down at the morgue… the even greater shock of seeing your lover’s unmoving, lifeless body and all of it becoming painfully, truly real. They won’t show me anything other than his face when they pull the sheet down. From what I understand, his body was pretty mangled in the accident, and I don’t want to see any more anyways.

 

The emotions of the moment. The shock. The horror. The sadness. All at once. You can’t understand it until you actually go through it. The golf ball that suddenly finds its way in your throat as you try to open your mouth to say: ‘Yes, that’s him.’ And you want nothing more to break down and scream and yell and run away from it all.

 

And then you’re back at home, and you’re surrounded by family, friends, and those you both worked with everyday who pretty much fit into the first two categories anyways. And it feels so surreal. All you want is for him back in your arms, for it all to be a sick prank, and all you want is for all these damned people to go away and take this nightmare with them, but you also don’t want them to go away because then you’ll be all alone in this house and then the true dread, the true darkness will begin to fall.

 

But eventually they must go away. And then you’re all alone. And then it all begins to come crashing around you. You want nothing more than to die. You want nothing more than for your beloved to be back in your arms and for this nightmare to go away.

 

Last night, at this time, everything was fine, everything was normal. We’d had dinner, a little too much wine, and then a marathon lovemaking session before settling peacefully in each other’s arms and falling asleep. Unaware that our world the next day was about to be shattered and burned.

 

(6)

 

Falling asleep is next to impossible. No matter how hard you try. In the same bed the both of you used to share. You lie awake half the night with the nightmare of the day playing itself over and over again in your head. Memory of a shared kiss in bed just this morning. Memory of seeing his lifeless, pale face only a few hours later. Until finally your body does get so exhausted you fall asleep at… what? Four? Five in the morning?

 

And then the nightmares… nightmares of his death playing out over and over again, getting the fateful phone call over and over again. Waking up within the dream to find out he’s still alive and it was indeed a nightmare after all. But then you wake up for real and realize that the nightmare was the reality all along and you’re waking up into it once again.

 

(7)

 

I wake, and he’s not in the bed with me. He arms no longer wrap strongly and contentedly around me. The pain of grief hits me like a freight train. I jump out of bed. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I want to run. I want to scream. I want to shout. But I feel frozen in place. The nightmare is still going on and there’s nothing I can do. Nothing.

 

(8)

 

The rest of the week is preparing for the funeral, which is a nightmare unto itself. From the hell of waking up in the morning to the hell of trying to fall asleep at night, all day long I am faced with the reality of his death, and there is nothing I can do to escape from it.

 

(9)

 

The day of the funeral is partly sunny, partly overcast. A part of me thinks it would be perfect if it were completely overcast. Completely and utterly with black clouds. Then it would match how the world feels to me now. Heading to the funeral home, the final march toward complete acceptance of what has happened and the final saying goodbye.

 

Seeing his face in the casket. They’ve used makeup to make him look far better than he did when I went down to the morgue to identify him. But he’s still so lifeless and still. My beloved is lying there, but his spirit, his essence, is completely departed. He is no longer in this world. I can no longer go to where he is.

 

People try to comfort me. Try to tell me that if there’s anything I ever need… But what the fuck could I ever need at this point that anyone could give to me now? My beloved was all I ever needed. And he’s gone now.

 

I break down crying during the service. I can’t help it. The priest the funeral home hired drones on relentlessly about heaven and how we’ll see our loved ones again someday.

 

Oh, yeah? And how the hell does he know? Has he – has anyone – ever been there on the other side to find out for certain and come back?

 

And why the fuck should I spend the last two thirds of my life – should I be so unfortunate to live that long – waiting long year after long year until I finally die someday in order to be back into the arms of my beloved?

 

I remain surprisingly composed for the most part as the casket is taken outside and lowered into the ground. Tears do roll down my cheeks as dirt begins to fall onto the casket, but I still do not completely break.

 

More hugs from friends, more well wishes and requests to call ‘if I need anything.’

 

Well, except for my three closest friends. The ones who were a part of our special circle which includes my beloved… this pain is far closer to all of us than anyone around. They don’t spout out the same stupid clichés. They all know better than that. Because I was the closest to my beloved, the fullest impact of the pain is not the same to them as it is to me. But it is still pretty damn close and personal.

 

Our circle is broken. And it will never be mended ever again.

 

Leaving the funeral home feels like the evening is descending upon my life. All that is left is a dull, throbbing ache and a gaping emptiness inside.

 

It’s when I get home that I finally fully break down. I scream. I yell. I sob. I fully accept the fact that he is truly gone from me.

 

(10)

 

The next few weeks that follow are fully characterized by pain and anger. Anger at reality, at existence, at the universe for ripping my world out from under me and putting me through this. It begins to scare me. I feel nothing like the person I used to be. It’s not just my beloved that was taken from me. I feel like the old Keitaro is being sucked away bit by bit.

 

I remember how outgoing and happy I used to be. How much I loved being alive, being around others, enjoying life and living it to the fullest. Nothing ever got me down for too long. But this… this is just too much. I’ve never had to deal with pain like this before. I confess, the thought has even entered my head a few times, wouldn’t it better if I had never met him, fallen in love with him, married him, had this long relationship with him? Perhaps if I had never opened my heart so fully, I would never have been hurt so badly. Perhaps it would have been better off had I remained alone.

 

…and yet…

 

Would that have even been possible? Could I really have traded the years I had with him for anything in the world? No matter how happy I thought I was, I wasn’t fully alive until I met him. He gave me the best memories of my life… memories that I could never have traded for all the riches in the universe. They payoff was that just like I was never fully alive until I met him, the moment he went away was the moment I completely and utterly died.

 

(11)

 

It’s been a month and a half since he was killed. Today, as I have been doing at random many other days since I lost my beloved, I wander aimlessly through the town. It beats spending all my time at home feeling like I’m completely and utterly wasting away. Many days now I even forget to shave or tend to my personal hygiene. I briefly lift my hand up to my face to check if I remembered to today. I did.

 

I keep walking through the town like this, always inevitably headed towards the places we used to frequent. Thinking about memories that are not quite so distant. Today is harder than many other days taking this walk for some reason.

 

I feel numb. Like a ghost. Walking in search of a former beloved I know I’ll never find again.

 

Oh, hey, that restaurant, the one we always like to eat at.

 

Oh, that store, how many times were we in there every week?

 

Life moments that seem trivial and everyday come back to me at full force, which I never thought much of before but now realize were some of the most precious moments in my life.

 

I suddenly feel it all coming upon me, so overwhelming.

 

I head toward the boardwalk. I find an area where there are not too many people around. I lean on the railing overlooking the water. I put my hand on my eyes. I’m crying. Trying to keep it to myself as much as possible. Hoping that if anyone does see me they’ll think I’m sleepy, having a headache, or just maybe had too much to drink.

 

But it starts to get so bad all I want to do is start screaming, start yelling, how unfair it all is, how my beloved had to be taken away from me.

 

(12)

 

A week and a half later I walk by one of the bookshelves in the house and suddenly stop.

 

I see the red book sticking partially out conspicuously.

 

That book.

 

I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it once all this time.

 

It’s been here in the main bookshelf in our living room, second shelf down from the top. This book was very precious to me. The journal from my first time at Camp Buddy. The one that got burned and then everyone pitched together to remake it. He had a part in that too.

 

My hands trembling, I take it off the shelf and try to open it.

 

But I cannot. I just cannot bear to read what is in this book now. I cannot read the memories. It will be too much for me.

 

The anger comes upon me and I scream and throw the book across the room.

 

(13)

 

And then sudden fear, dread, and horror comes upon me as I quickly scramble over to the book to make sure it’s okay.

 

I quickly make sure it’s all right without opening it.

 

I don’t know what I was thinking. This book is too precious to me. It’s my last biggest link back to my beloved. I cradle it to me and cry. I will read it again someday. But not now. I can’t now.

 

(14)

 

I’ve not been required to return to the camp anytime soon where my beloved and I worked as scoutmasters together. I was told to take all the time I needed, that it was understandable.

 

It would have been one thing if I had had one workplace and he had another. But working together in the same place for so long, the very place where we first met when we were merely fellow campers… it’s too much. It’s just as hard thinking about returning as it is mustering up the courage to re-read that journal.

 

I can’t even bring myself to think about returning to work at this point.

 

Of course, I will have to eventually. Staying at home and moping perpetually isn’t going to pay the bills. Our savings won’t last forever. Not that Yoshinori would ever let me fall so far into any sort of destitution.

 

But I can’t make him do that for me. It wouldn’t be right. I will have to return to work soon. I don’t know how I will be able to handle it. I begin to think of leaving the camp entirely and finding something else to do.

  
But Camp Buddy has been my life. I even changed my entire degree in school because I knew that Camp Buddy was where I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

 

Without it, I just don’t know where to go.

 

(15)

 

It’s been nearly three months. I finally have one more breakdown. It’s been building up more and more for some time. I’m all alone in the house, same as always, but I let loose. I start yelling out how much I hate the universe, I hate life, I hate existence, how much I hate absolutely everything around me.

 

As I begin to come out of my tantrum, I have a memory flash through my head. I take a long look in the mirror, looking at what I’ve become. I don’t see my own face. I see someone else from the past, who once spewed such hatred, at me, at everyone around him.

 

It was perfectly understandable how he had come to be like that. He was dealing with the fallout of his own trauma. I reached out to him and helped him come out of being that person. Now as I look in the mirror I realize I’m starting to turn into that person.

 

I turn away from the mirror. I don’t want to face it anymore. Somehow I find myself crawling into bed and drifting off to sleep.

 

(16)

 

I can’t really explain what it is that happens this night as I sleep and dream.

 

Or is it really a dream?

 

There is a very different quality to it. Not like the dreams I’m used to having. Nothing at all like the dreams I’ve become accustomed to him being in.

 

It feels like I’m in a very different sort of reality. Everything is far more real even than in my waking moments.

 

My beloved floats above me, looking down on me.

 

He is not smiling. He looks rather sadly at me.

 

He speaks, but his mouth is not moving. He speaks through what appears to be coming at me through telepathy.

 

‘This is not the life I want you to live in my absence. Don’t you realize that yet? It makes me sad seeing you like this. Don’t worry about me. I’m just fine here. But what happened to the Keitaro who once taught me how to really smile? This is not what I would want to see you turn into. I’m never far from you. I’m watching over you always. I want for you to live your life and smile again. Be happy again, for me, Keitaro. Continue the work we started.’

 

And suddenly he is smiling at me. And I feel myself being bathed in love and warmth. I recognize it – his presence – it begins to fully wash over me and embrace me.

 

‘You made me so happy the years we were together, Keitaro. I love you so much.’

 

And then just like that the dream is over.

 

I sit up, not realizing at first that tears are running down my face.

 

The impact of the dream is still fully with me. I can still feel the warmth, his presence, for a little while longer, before it slowly starts to dissipate.

 

I then cry, letting every emotion pour out of me that’s been inside of me for over the last three months.

 

I don’t know how long I cry.

 

I just know that as I near the end of it – maybe I’m imagining it – I feel as if arms are going around me and embracing me. I feel the warmth again, just briefly, for a few minutes. I realize that all the anger and self-pity is evaporating from my heart. I don’t feel the arms – the warmth – for very long. But when they finally disappear and my tears finally start again, I sit in bed for a while thinking.

 

The dull ache and pain of loss remains in my heart as ever. But – how can I put this? I can feel a new strength beginning to take over. A quiet peace amidst the pain.

 

And I know what I have to do tomorrow.

 

(17)

 

It’s the weekend, and summer doesn’t officially start for another month-and-a-half, so I do have a good chance of being by myself today. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. I’ve arrived early enough this morning.

 

There is still always a chance of running into Yoshinori or Sir Aiden at the very least.

 

But it’s not like it would a bad thing to see them again after being in hiding all these months.

 

I did mostly come today, though, at a time when no one is likely to be here. If I’m going to follow through and come back to work, I really wanted my first day back to be alone with my own thoughts. To go ahead and get the shock of being back at this place after his death somewhat out of my system.

 

And it is a shock. As I pull up into the all-too familiar parking lot. And then as I stand before the entrance gate, the large Camp Buddy sign looming above me.

 

I immediately flash back to my first day here. How I was so excited and filled with enthusiasm. How completely unaware that I was in for the adventure of my life. The very important life-long friends I was to make here. And that it was here I was to unexpectedly come to find true love.

 

I’m frozen at the gate for a moment as those first few memories come rushing back into my head.

 

18 year old me standing at the gate, just an excited boy with a camera being excited for the adventures to come. Then there’s Hiro running up to me excitedly. From there we went into the camp and met Yoshinori and Natsumi, and later Hunter, Yoichi, Sir Aiden, Taiga, and the rest.

 

As I walk through the campgrounds that are now oh-so-familiar, all of the memories keep rushing back one by one. Especially the memories around him. In fact, as I walk what at first seems to be aimlessly around the camp, I start to realize I’m actually walking in a specific order. From the place where we first met on camp grounds, to the obstacle course where our feelings for each other started to grow into full bloom, to the place on the campgrounds where we had our first ‘moment’ which would be the first of many such ‘moments.’ I finally walk back around to the place where we both finally confessed our love for each other.

 

It was not under the most ideal of circumstances. Emotions were strong and feelings were weighing heavy. But it was the only time. Not confessing and not being completely honest with each other would have been our greatest mistake. In fact, as I think back on that day, it strikes me just how decisive that day actually was. It wasn’t about just the relationship between me and him. It impacted not only us but everyone around us.

 

Suppose that neither of us had said what we really felt? Worse, suppose that things had gone the worst possible scenario and we had not only lied to each other but got so caught up in our emotions we had found ourselves saying things that we didn’t really mean?

 

It wouldn’t have just been the end of us, but the resulting rip would have torn apart our circle.

 

I quietly meditate on this thought as I walk back through the camp. I look around and see how much it has grown. How much it has accomplished. How many young camper’s lives it’s impacted who have grown up and taken the experiences they’ve had here and the things they’ve learned and gone out into the world and changed it for the better.

 

Would all of that have been lost had things gone slightly differently? Would all of the good that had been done, the good that was to be done in the future, all the precious memories, would they have truly faded away like nothing more than dust on the wind, like Sir Goro, dealing with his own disappointment and anger issues at the time, had once said?

 

For a brief moment – I can’t tell if I’m imagining it or not – but I feel as if the presence of my beloved is walking beside me.

 

And, if he were in fact walking beside me right now, what would he be saying?

 

‘See all the good that’s been done? It was all worth it, wasn’t it? And it’s not even over yet.’

 

That’s what I’d imagine he’d be saying to me right now, and quite frankly I’m not so sure if it’s coming from my own imagination or not.

 

(18)

 

“Keitaro?”

 

I am suddenly snapped out of my thoughts by the sudden voice. I turn and see Scoutmaster Yuri behind me.

 

I give a half-smile and polite wave and say “Hey.”

 

She comes running up and hugs me, squeezing me tightly. “I’m so glad to see you again! We’ve been wondering if you were planning on coming back.” She releases me.

 

So, I guess they’ve already considered the possibility I might not want to return.

 

“I want to come back.” I find myself saying. “I just came by today to… catch myself up on the idea.”

 

“How are you holding up?” she asks me. I can’t really do more than give a weak smile and a shrug.

 

“It’s almost 11. Come have lunch with me at the mess hall. Sir Aiden’s not here today, but I’m sure we’ll find something in the cabinets.”

 

I nod my head weakly and follow her.

 

(19)

 

We have lunch and catch up. Mostly Yuri catches me up at what’s been going on the camp since I’ve been away. I don’t speak much except to occasionally ask a few questions about certain people and what they’ve been up to. We continue to talk after we eat as I take moderate sips of black coffee. Finally she shifts the topic back around to me.

 

“How have you been doing, Keitaro? Really?”

 

I sigh a bit and begin filling her in on the last three months.

 

“We all really miss him. And you. I can understand if you don’t want to come back. You don’t have to pressure yourself…”

 

I shake my head.

 

“I want to come back.” I say resolutely. “This place wasn’t just a job. This was our place. I want to carry on our work… for him. It’s the best way I can think of to honor his memory. And all the wonderful memories we made together in this place. I just can’t throw that all away.”

 

She smiles and puts her hand on mine.

 

“That is such a Keitaro answer.” She says.

 

I smile weakly. “It’s just how I really feel.”

 

We talk a little more. Finally, she says, “Well, I have a lot of work I need to catch up on this afternoon. Are you going to be remaining a little longer?”

 

I nod. “Yes. I’d like to walk the camp grounds just a little longer.”

 

Suddenly she seems to realize something.

 

“Oh! I almost forgot!”

 

She tells me that I’m not the only one who showed up today.

 

“Oh!” I say. “I thought I saw his car in the parking lot when I showed up. But I didn’t see him in the camp, so I wasn’t sure if he was here or not.”

 

“He’s working on a special project for the camp today. You should drop by and say hi.”

 

She tells me where he is.

 

“Sure. I’ll do that.”

 

(20)

 

I go to where Yuri told me he would be. I come up behind him hard at work. I smile when I see him. A memory flashes back to me. The first year at camp. The fundraiser we had to save the camp. All of the different activities we engaged in. How much fun and how successful it turned out to be.

 

I come up behind him. He still hasn’t noticed me.

 

“Hey.” I say.

 

He jumps.

 

“K-Keitaro?” he says, surprised. He looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

 

He runs up and gives me a hug.

 

“Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here.” He says.

 

“Just taking a little walk. Thinking.” I say.

 

“A-are you doing okay?” he asks.

 

I nod.

 

“I’ll be returning to work this Monday. I just wanted to prep myself for it.”

 

“Oh? You’re really coming back? Are you sure you’ll be ok.”

 

I nod.

 

“Yeah. It’s what I need to do.”

 

There’s a bit of silence between us for a bit. He seems to be watching what he says, trying to pick his words carefully.

 

“Well. It will be nice to have you back. Everyone’s missed you.”

 

I nod my head.

 

I look over at what he was working on. He has everything spread out.

 

“So, what is this project you’re working on?”

 

He explains it to me.

 

“Can I be of help?” I ask.

 

“Oh! Sure! If you want.” He says, surprised.

 

“I’d love to!” I say.

 

(21)

 

Afterwards we leave the camp and go and have lunch. And as we sit at the table and talk, I start to realize just how I’ve missed this, and just what I’ve been doing wrong all this time.

 

When my beloved died, I more or less retreated into isolation and shut everyone out.

 

It’s not like I ignored everyone entirely. I talked to them on the phone every so often. But I wouldn’t take opportunities to get out like this.

 

Everyone was so busy with their own lives anyways, and I didn’t want to feel like I was burdening them.

  
At least, that’s the lie I tried to tell myself.

 

The truth is, I was running. I was hiding in my house, wallowing in my own depression and self-pity.

 

But doing the activity with my close friend today and now sitting and talking casually, I realize that my spirit feels strangely lifted, even if just a little bit.

 

I realize I should have been doing this all along.

 

(22)

 

Eventually we part ways and say goodbye. He tells me to call him if I need everything. Even if just to talk. He stammers with his words a bit, as if he’s walking on eggshells with everything he says.

 

I just smile and tell him that I will

 

I mean, I’ll be seeing him on Monday again anyways when I return to work.

 

But my heart feels warmed again at the realization at how much people still care for me. I also feel guilty for having shut them out.

 

(23)

 

There is one last thing to do before I go to bed.

 

I take the journal off the bookshelf, sit down in my favorite chair, and read it from beginning to end.

 

Memories long locked away but not forgotten rush to me again. I feel almost as if I’m actually there again, reliving those days once again for the first time.

 

I laugh, I cry, I smile, and my hearts aches at more points than others.

 

Soft tears flow down my cheeks as I finish the book, and cradle it close to me.

 

As I crawl back into bed, this bed that has become far too lonely, the memories continue to linger on my mind.

 

I imagine for a brief moment that my beloved is there with me, his arms wrapped strongly around me.

 

But he is also fading.

 

I realize now that a chapter is closing on my life.

 

A very long chapter that had been like a dream. Now, I don’t know what to expect from the future anymore.

 

I wonder, will I ever truly smile and laugh again?

 

Will there ever be any more memories to make in the future that will be just as meaningful as the ones I’ve had up to this point?

 

I think about these things until I slowly drift off to sleep.

 

(24)

 

Even having prepped myself beforehand, returning to work is harder that I had imagined.

 

Returning to my usual duties like before, but without him.

 

Dealing with the new batches of campers as the camping season started, without him.

 

Truthfully, we had done literally everything together. It’s like we had been attached at the hip. And now, I’m doing everything without him.

 

Sometimes, it becomes overwhelming. Especially during the camping season. I see new friendships growing among the campers, and even new relationships. It reminds me so much of our first days together. There are so many triggers. Sometimes all I can do is stumble into the scoutmaster’s bathroom (it’s the most private) and cry.

 

But I persevere. As time goes on, I start to become number to it. It gets just a little easier each day. In fact, it’s almost just as horrifying to realize just how much I’m getting used to him not being there.

 

‘So, this is what it means to move on and keep living my life.’ I think to myself one day.

 

Life continues on without him.

 

The clouds in my mind are no longer black, but they are still gray. The whole world feels gray without him. And I wonder if there’s any possibility the sun could ever shine again in my life.

 

(25)

 

But as much as I’ve been trying not to notice it, as much as I’ve been getting used to my beloved no longer being by my side, something else is beginning to take place, something that I’ve been trying to not think about…

 

(26)

 

Nobody could ever take his place. Nobody could ever replace just how much he meant to me. Nobody could ever take the place of the precious memories we made together. Such a thing would feel outright blasphemous. The very thought that there could ever be someone ever again is not something I want to think about or admit, because at this point, it feels like it would be a betrayal. As if I were taking an entirely different route than the one I had before and completely negating everything in the route that’s happened thus far. Would I dare even consider such a thing? And yet…

 

(27)

 

I don’t know how to put my finger on this, exactly.

 

Ever since we worked on the project, he and I have gotten a lot closer.

 

I have, of course, reconnected with all my close friends. I’m not hiding away anymore.

 

But it feels like we are always together now, more so than the others. I’ve noticed that we’ve been working more and more together. All the work I used to do with my beloved, I notice that he’s been filling that gap more and more.

 

It’s become so that we’re not even just working together, but often taking lunch and even dinner outside work together.

 

I’ve been feeling a connection that wasn’t there before. I can talk to him about anything. My feelings, my grief, my pain, my uncertainty of the future.

 

He’s there for all of it and he listens to me.

 

Of course, it’s not like I can’t talk to the others about this kind of stuff. I don’t know how I can put this…? It’s just different with him.

 

I’m beginning to wonder if we aren’t simply just friends anymore.

 

(28)

 

We are sitting together in the field, talking and looking up at the stars. It’s a scene that has a strong feel of familiarity to it. Though different. It’s not my beloved that’s sitting beside me. But I can’t bring myself to say the person sitting next to me now is in no way nearly as special.

 

I can’t say that I’m in any way over what happened several months ago. Not even close. But sitting here, with him now, I feel… just about as close to happy as I can begin to get at this point.

 

We continue to talk casually for a while, until he suddenly becomes quiet.

 

I look over at him, wondering what’s come up. He seems to be wrestling with something in his mind.

 

“Keitaro… I have to tell you something.”

 

“Okay…” I say, uncertain of what’s coming.

 

“I feel like I shouldn’t be saying this now… with what you’ve been through so recently. But, I didn’t tell you back then, and if I don’t tell you now, I know I’ll keep regretting it for the rest of my life.”

 

I simply look at him.

 

“Back then… that first year at camp,” he says. “I… I really enjoyed the time we spent together, just as much as I’ve been enjoying the time we’ve been spending together now. Back then, when you two got together, I was happy for you, honestly. Even though I was kinda sad.”

 

“Sad?” I ask him, not quite understanding. “What do you mean, exactly?”

 

“Well…” he says. “Back then, I liked you too. And when you got together with him, I felt rather jealous at first. I couldn’t help but really wish that you had picked me. But, you were so happy, and he put such a smile on your face that I knew I never would have been able to. And seeing you so happy made me so happy as well… even if I was kinda sad.”

 

I just look at him, stunned.

 

He continues: “And you know what, the truth is, I’ve never stopped liking you, even though I had fully accepted I would never have you.”

 

He looks down at the ground. His hands are grasping the grass underneath him.

 

“Don’t misunderstand me. I would never want to suddenly force myself in or try to take his place. That would be… wrong of me. In fact, if I knew there was some way I could go and bring him back, just to be able to put a smile on your face again, to have you be the old Keitaro again, I would do it in a heartbeat, no matter what. And he was my close friend too, after all. It really sucks the way everything turned out. But I just wanted you to know that. I couldn’t really keep going on holding it in.”

 

He puts his head down even more.

 

“I’m sorry.” He says.

 

I’m not sure what I’m really thinking at this point. But I grab his head and pull him into a kiss. He stiffens at first, but then relaxes into it. It feels different. It’s not the same as when I would kiss my beloved. And yet, it feels no less warm nor less right. After a while, I pull away. He just looks at me, as if uncertain what to think.

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I say.

 

And then, I pull him in and kiss him again. He wraps his arms around me and gets into it too. We kiss each other warmly but passionately for a while before we finally stop. Then we spend the rest of our time together lying on the grass. At some point he wraps his arms around me and cuddles me. I don’t resist.

 

“I do really miss him too.” He says. “More than you can imagine.”

 

“I know.” I say. “It will never be the same without him.”

 

“I’m sorry.” He says again. “If I went too far tonight, I’m sorry.”

 

I respond by holding him tighter.

 

“I already told you. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

 

We just lie there in silence the rest of the time, watching the stars.

 

(29)

 

I’m not entirely sure what I’m feeling at this time. I don’t feel like I’m doing anything wrong. But am I? Am I betraying my beloved? When did my feelings start to shift like this? When did it become possible that my heart began to make room for another person? What would he think of me now? But I think of him in that dream, how disappointed at me for how I was not living my life, not moving on. He told me he wants me to move on and be happy. And if it’s with one of our closest friends, too, is it possible he would actually be happy for us both?

 

(30)

 

We don’t officially consider ourselves boyfriends yet. It’s too awkward to say. We don’t even act like boyfriends when we’re around each other on subsequent days. But we continue to spend time together. There is a light kiss here and there. But it all comes to a head a month after the summer season has ended. We’re at my house, sitting on my couch, talking, spending time with each other. And then his hand touches mine. I feel something suddenly welling up in me. I grab his hand. Pull him in for a kiss. It becomes passionate. Feverish. And then, our hands are reaching all over each other, pulling our clothes off. The lovemaking that follows is not the same as it was with my beloved. I’m pretty much assuming a slightly different role than when me and him usually made love. But this… doesn’t feel wrong. There is definitely something here. A spark. Our lovemaking is feverish and hot. I feel every cell in my body exploding in pleasure. As we finally come together, holding each other’s hands, I feel myself shuddering as much as I ever did in my best sexual experiences. As we come down from our high I hold him close and cradle him. I give him a kiss on the cheek.

 

It was different, to be sure, and yet, I don’t feel like I’m betraying my former beloved. He is not in this world anymore. I cannot any longer go to him and he cannot any longer come to me. Not on this side of the mortal coil.

 

And as I hold my… dare I say it? New beloved? As I hold him close to me, I feel like humans were not meant to live in solitude all our lives. Even with all of the grief and angst and loss and bad things we can’t control… we still cannot isolate ourselves from others perpetually. We cannot close ourselves off from allowing love to come into our lives and allowing ourselves to love again. That’s the way I feel at this point.

 

He falls asleep in my arms. As I begin to fall asleep, I feel like I can see my former beloved above me, looking down on us. He’s smiling at us.

 

(31)  


You can never replace the one’s you’ve lost. They will always be a part of your heart. You never truly stop grieving for them in a sense. Even though it becomes easier as time moves on, there will always forevermore be that unmistakable ache when you look back at the memories of what once was and when you think about all that might have been but was cut short once and for all of ever coming to pass. But the amazing thing about the human heart is the capacity to not surrender in total defeat when what was once such a big part of it is forever torn away. The heart can heal – even though there will always be a scar. But even more incredible is the capacity for a torn and damaged heart to be able to allow itself to open and be able to accept room for another. It’s never quite the same. But even there is a degree of healing.

 

(32)

 

A year passes as me and him are more or less official. Everyone is happy for us. My friends are glad we’ve both been able to be together and be a comfort for each other. Even though the death of our close friend, my former lover, still looms like a gray shadow over us all. But that shadow diminishes with each passing day. It doesn’t go away. But it feels like the light is able to shine through once again. One day we are sitting on the couch at my place, cuddling each other. He says something. I lean over and kiss him. It gets a little heated. Then he stops and says something I didn’t expect to hear. “I want to be with you for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?” I feel stunned by something so bold and unexpected like that coming from him. At the moment, I feel like my life is on a precipice. I know that the answer I give will take my future on a very specific path. I will be truly separating from my old life forever. I will be saying goodbye to what once was and beginning to build a new future with the one that I’ve come to love. I briefly think of my former beloved. I think he would want me to say yes. I look my new beloved in the eyes. So full of love and passion. And I say “Yes.” We start to kiss passionately. It feels like everything in me is on fire. I never thought I would feel this way again after the loss. But as my new beloved climbs on top of me and begins to straddle me as our kissing becomes even more feverish, I simply let myself go and become lost to the sensations.

 

(33)

 

We’ve been married for a few years. Once day, I’m cleaning out the closet, when I come across some old photo boxes. I stop. I haven’t looked through these in a long time. In fact, I mostly stopped taking photos and filling up these boxes after the death. I tremble slightly as I pull out the boxes and begin to go through them.

 

A wave of emotion takes over when I open the first boxes. So many memories. From the times we were younger to our adulthood almost to the present. There are many pictures of him. It brings a familiar ache to my heart. Seeing his smile, as if it has been lost and frozen somewhere distant in time. I run my hand over the first photo I pull out of him and smile.

 

I begin to realize something as I look through these photos. The former beloved in these photos feels so familiar yet far more distant to me than I would have thought. I have long felt that the memory of him was still very close to me, that I could still remember him just as if I had been with him yesterday.

 

But now I realize I don’t. It’s a funny thing, the way that time can distort and stretch memories. In the years since I’ve lost him, my mind has focused on certain aspects of him, more and more clouding the many other traits and aspects of him that I had forgotten had also always been there.

 

When we were together, he was never so much predictable like I like to imagine he was in my memory. The truth is, he was always surprising me, although I was with him most every moment of the day. Being married to him was never any guarantee that I ever truly knew him completely.

 

I suppose it’s that way with all people, though.

 

The depths of what make an individual person, even when you think you come to know them well, are in fact, infinite.

 

The longer me and him were together, it was not so much like I was coming to know him completely, but merely coming to know him more fully. It was kind of like peeling back an onion. The longer we were together, the more we came to better understand the depths of each other’s souls. But never completely. The ‘real’ him was someone I could never hope to fully understand and there would always be surprises. But I suppose that was what made it a real relationship with a real other human being.

 

But…

 

When he died I lost the real him. My mind took over and began filling in the blanks. And as I look through the pictures (because pictures can’t lie) and the memories begin to come back, I am astounded by how many important things I realize I’ve forgotten, and how much incorrect my memory was in some areas.

 

And then I begin to wonder just how fake the image of him in my head has become now.

 

It makes me feel kind of sad, to realize that in losing him physically I’ve begun to lose more than I had previously thought. I’m even starting to lose some of the actual memories. His truth. His essence.

 

But I also realize as I look through the pictures just how worth it everything was. Regardless of whether I remember them (or him) correctly or not, the memories we made were so precious and special. I would never trade them for anything in the universe.

 

(34)

 

“Do you regret… the way things turned out?” my new beloved asks me one night as we’re sitting in bed.

 

“How do you mean?” I ask, not certain what to think of the question.

 

I’d been able to see for a while now that something seems to have been bothering him.

 

Actually, I know it’s not even recent, I’ve seen flashes of it off and on since we’ve been together, but he’s never seemed to want to talk about it, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to try to force it out of him.

 

“Sometimes I feel guilty.” He says.

 

“Guilty? What on earth do you have to feel guilty about?”

 

He pauses, as if trying to pick his words carefully, to express himself correctly.

 

“I know you didn’t originally pick me, and I know that if he were able to be here again, he would have first place in your heart. I feel guilty because… well, as horrible as I felt when he died, just like all of us… I pretty much immediately went and took my chance. I know he’s not around anymore, but, in a way, I feel like I kind of stole you from him. I know you’ll never love me as much as you loved him, and I’ve still cherished every moment I’ve had with you, knowing that I’ve basically taken his place and am receiving only secondary scraps… and I just want to say… once again… I’m sorry.”

 

What he says shocks me.

 

I pull him close, feeling his warm bare skin against mine.

 

“Are you still going on about all of that? Didn’t I tell you before it was fine? What do you mean by ‘secondary scraps’? Is that how you think I feel about you? I don’t feel like you stole me from him. I’ve cherished every moment I’ve had with you too. I don’t love you any less than I did him. He’s gone and he’s never coming back. But you’re here now and I’ve enjoyed every minute we’ve spent together. I love you very much. I don’t regret us ending up together. Not even a little bit.”

 

I snuggle my head to his. But his expression still looks dark.

 

“If you could go back in time and change what happened, and have him again here today… then you would do so in a heartbeat. That’s what I meant. I never said you don’t love me. It’s just that… I know my place.”

 

So, he’s expressed out loud what I’ve already pondered a few times myself.

 

“I don’t know what I would do in that situation, honestly.” I finally say.

 

“Isn’t it obvious which one you’d pick?” he says.

 

I shake my head.

 

“No, it’s really not.”

 

He looks at me, surprised.

 

“But he’s the one you really loved. After everything, I can only play second fiddle.”

 

“It’s true that I loved him more than anything or anyone else.” I say. “And we made so many great memories together. But… I’ve made so many great memories with you now too. And even though that was the darkest time in my life, and I would have given anything at the time to change it, I’m… not so sure I would now.”

 

He looks at me as if he can’t comprehend what I just said.

 

I continue: “It’s hard to put into words. It was terrible thing to happen, and I still miss him.”

 

I reach around him and grasp his hand in mine.

 

“But… a lot of things have happened since then. Things I’ve come to cherish now as well. I’ve grown a lot since then. To change history… means I would have to negate everything positive that’s happened since then, and even scratch you out of my heart as well. And I just… don’t know how I really feel about that. I don’t know if I could give up the memories I’ve had now with you for anything either. I don’t feel like you really believe me when I say I love you as much as I loved him, but the truth is I do.”

 

I give his hand a firm squeeze. I can feel him shuddering. Tears are now running down his cheeks.

 

“I love you so much… I don’t deserve you. I’m so sorry.” He says.

 

I pull him close and kiss him.

 

“I love you so much. You deserve everything I have to offer to you.”

 

(35)

 

It’s been many, many years. Several decades have passed. We managed to grow old together. We got old and gray. But still no less in love with each other.

 

The machine beeps softly beside me. He grasps my hand as I lie in the hospital bed. I can hear the birds chirping softly outside. It makes me feel a little sad, as I know I will never set foot in the outdoors again. The memories…

 

I don’t have much time left, and I know it. Turns out I’m going to be the first to go this time.

 

It’s not fear I feel, but sadness.

 

Overall, I’ve had a good life. There were some struggles, some really dark moments, but all in all I would say I was very blessed.

 

I’m sad that it’s almost over. Thinking of all the good times, from the days when I was just a precocious young boy, arriving starry eyed and excited on my first day at Camp Buddy, unaware just how much of my life was about to change from that point on.

 

How sad it is to no longer be able to go back and live those days again… nor to any longer guide and watch the young campers, succeeding new generations, live out those days of awe and wonder for themselves.

 

My beloved keeps holding my hand. We talk. Well, he mostly talks. I can’t really talk much at this point. I can’t even really move much anymore. The sickness, so sudden, has taken its toll on my body faster than we could have thought possible.

 

I feel sad for a second reason, though, because now it’s my turn to leave someone behind. I now have to put someone else through the same sadness I once went through.

 

I reflect on these things more and more. Until the light appears in the corner of the room. My beloved doesn’t seem to notice it. I don’t understand how. It’s so bright at first. And then, all I can feel is shocked. My former beloved is standing there, looking over at me. And I know instantly it’s not the memory I had once constructed of him, not a partially false, partially true self, truth mixed with reality as I remember it.

 

This is him for real. His true essence. I recognize him immediately.

 

My current beloved that is holding my hand takes no notice. I want to tell him, ‘Look! See! It’s him! He’s finally back!’, but I know full well inside that he won’t be able to see or take notice.

 

My former beloved says nothing, but simply stands there looking on at me, smiling. I can feel love and warmth radiating from him. It envelops me. I do not feel fear and sadness anymore. It is at this point that I feel I am truly slipping away. Some time passes, I’m not sure how long, but there is a point where I know it’s time. And as I suddenly feel myself start to go, I try to tell my current beloved ‘Goodbye, it’s ok, don’t worry, he’s here with me.’

 

I don’t know if my mouth actually forms the words. I don’t know if my physical body actually says them.

 

But I see my former beloved coming toward me, holding his hand out to take mine.

 

‘It’s time, Keitaro.’

 

I am covered by indescribable feelings of love and warmth as I take his hand.

 

I know that my current beloved is crying as I am fully slipping away. But I don’t want him to cry because everything is fine now. I am covered by love and warmth and light and my love will always be with him too and someday we will all be together again.

 

My former beloved pulls me by the hand and we are suddenly in the light. And I know now that this is not the end of adventures and memories to be made. It is merely a new beginning.

 

**End**

**Author Note 1: I have long considered myself out of the fanfiction scene for quite some time. I have long since graduated from my younger days (although I'm still young, haha) to writing/publishing original works in the e-book sphere. The following story is an anomaly as it's the first story I've written in some time since I've been very busy over the last few years and have been on a self-proclaimed hiatus from writing. Also because it's a fanfiction, when I had already sworn I was done with the fanfiction scene. But every now and then an idea comes along for a story that's just too strong. This one wouldn't leave me alone, and I just had to get it out as soon as possible before I lost it. Camp Buddy: what can I say about this game? It was not what I was expecting. I only very recently started getting into visual novels, and happened to become aware of this game through 'Let's Plays' of the demo on YouTube. It's my normal standard to avoid any game that falls into the 'erotic' or 'hentai' categories simply because I primarily play video games for interesting characters and compelling storylines, and my typical expectations for such in games of the 'adult' genre varieties tend to be exceedingly low. But the sheer likability of the characters from what I saw in the demo (even for being standard anime tropes) made me interested in the characters and curious to see more. I honestly wasn't really expecting the roller coaster of emotions this video game took me on. I wasn't expecting so much thought to have been put into the characters and story. I never even had a thought when I first started it up that I was going to find myself actually tearing at at several points in the game and actually giving a damn about whether or not the camp survived. The characters honestly left an impact on me, and I felt compelled to return the favor with this story.**

**Author Note 2: I'm planning on releasing an original fiction version of this story (with the fanfiction elements of the story completely removed or changed) as a free e-book alongside my other original fiction e-books. The thought had originally occurred to me to simply write it as original fiction and not as a Camp Buddy fanfiction. But, because this story was directly inspired by CB and it was the CB characters I had in my head, I had no choice but to write the initial version exactly as I saw it in my head as a CB fanfiction.**

**Author Note 3: Special thanks to Archive Of Our Own for existing and actually giving me a good place to publish this story in a place it can be seen and read by other CB fans. I actually tried to request having a category for Camp Buddy made on my old stomping grounds of fanfiction.net, but I guess the genre of the game scared them half to death and they decided to be poopy and not even respond to me.**

 

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